Blogging, Coffee, and Disappointment
by Otempora42
Summary: In which Barney is cranky, Robin is an avid reader of his blog, and both have coffee. Mostly gen with Barney/Robin UST, some swearing. Oneshot.


**This takes place sometime after Robin moves in with Ted, but before "Benefits". Some knowledge of Barney's blog (over at the official CBS website) is helpful, but not necessary.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own How I Met Your Mother.**

Blogging, Coffee, and Disappointment

Barney's neighbor's Internet was down, and he desperately needed to update his blog.

"Damn it," he muttered. It was times like this when he considered getting his own Internet connection. But, then again, why waste his booze-and-suit money on the Internet when he could hack into someone else's for free?

There was only one thing to do – he had to go to a coffee place and hook up to their Internet. Maybe he could go to that place with the hot baristas. Who said he couldn't multi-task?

* * *

Barney hadn't had to resort to the Internet cafes in a while, and he remembered why he didn't use them more often.

First of all, he'd had to wait around for about thirty minutes for a plug. Then he went to get his coffee. All of the people behind the counter were a. ugly or b. dudes. And, needless to say, ordering the coffee took longer than actually drinking the coffee.

"Would you like a tall or a grande?" the girl at the check-out said. She was kind of a dog already, but the baggy polo buttoned all the way up was doing her no favors.

"Whichever's bigger," Barney said.

"Would you like regular whipped cream, low-fat, or no-fat?"

"I don't want whipped cream."

"But it comes with whipped cream."

"Would it kill you to not put it on?" In Barney's opinion, having whipped cream in your coffee defeated the point of having coffee at all. Coffee had once been a manly drink – not quite as manly as a scotch, but pretty up there. But now Starbucks and its ilk had started catering to fourteen-year-old girls who don't even like coffee, and the coffee-drinking bro had to suffer for it.

"What kind of sprinkles would you like?"

"Sprinkles..." Barney said, taken aback. "Listen, I just want the coffee. Nothing else. Got it?"

"That'll be $5.55, sir."

Barney didn't even have the patience to complain about the price.

On the down side, the coffee was terrible. It was (presumably) only drinkable with all of that other crap added in. But, on the plus side, he had a topic for his next blog post.

He was about halfway through with it when the door swung open.

"Cappuccino, please," a familiar voice said. Barney looked up.

Holy crap, it was Robin.

Barney ducked down behind his laptop screen, but it was too late. Robin had seen him.

"Hi," Robin said. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Hey," Barney said. Great, his palms were sweating. How was he supposed to type when his palms were sweating? "No, go ahead."

Robin pulled out a chair and sat across from him.

"What are you doing here?" Barney asked.

"Oh, Ted and I are out of coffee, and I felt like going out for some fresh air, and here I am." She looked good today – her hair was up, and it worked for her. She had a nice neck.

Wait. Since when had Barney cared about necks?

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"Oh, Internet's out at my place, and I'm updating my blog."

"Cool. I've read your blog."

"R-really?" His first reaction: _She reads my blog! That has to mean that she's interested in me, right? Or what I have to say. What does she think about it?_

"So, you like it?" he asked.

"You have some... interesting opinions."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Robin smiled, and Barney had to smile back. It was like a reflex. "Oh, there was this post a while back that I wanted to ask you about."

"Shoot."

"It was after your accident."

Barney felt his face heat up. A lump rose in his throat. She was obviously referring to the post where he mentioned his case of "the feelings". Damn it.

"Y-yeah?"

"So. Who is she?"

"What are you even talking about?" Barney looked up at her. She was not buying it. "She's... she's no one. It was the morphine talking."

"Really?" That slyness in her voice was very attractive. Barney hoped that he wasn't blushing, although considering how hot it had become in the space of a few seconds, he was pretty sure that he was. Why the hell did Robin have to be so infuriatingly appealing? "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Positive."

"Well, OK." She took a sip of her coffee. "I'd better leave you to your work."

"Yeah." Robin stood up, and Barney stopped typing. "Let's get some coffee again sometime. When I'm not busy."

"OK," she said. "That sounds like fun." She started to leave. "See you around."

"See you."

And then Robin left. Barney watched her. Barney hated it when she wasn't with him, but the shot of her ass helped to ease his pain.

He then regarded the blog post. It was nearly done. He just needed to add one thing.

* * *

Robin waited a while after she got home before checking Barney's blog, but she didn't stop thinking about it.

_Maybe he's telling the truth. Maybe he just got a crush on a nurse and mistook it for feelings in a drug-induced haze._

It was certainly better than the alternative.

But, then again, when she'd asked him about it, and he'd insisted that there'd been no one... She'd definitely felt disappointed.

But that could just be because there was no story given. She'd been considering the entry for a long time, and Barney's explanation just didn't match up to her imagination. She'd expected a funny story, or maybe even a huge revelation. That was it. That _had _to be it.

Half an hour after she'd left the café, Robin went to check Barney's blog. Sure enough, he'd updated. She read the first paragraph and grinned.

_I need to be a little bit more careful about what I say on this blog. Apparently, people I actually know are among our readers. (Hi, Scherbatsky.)_

_Anyway, I have noticed a huge problem with the caffeinated-beverage industry these days – namely that the drinks they sell are for little girls..._

She shook her head. Barney could never know that his blog was the first thing that Robin checked on Mondays.


End file.
